Dragon Tails
by OccasionallyIWriteStuff
Summary: Jaune Arc is a squire who needs to prove both to himself and to everyone around him that his acceptance to Beacon wasn't a mistake. When he ends up being paired with one of the strongest shifters in their class, he sees his opportunity and will do anything utilize it to its full potential. Xekstrin Dragon AU.
1. Introductions

_A/N: It's been awhile since I published something guys. Whoops. Anyway, this time we're in Xekstrin's dragon AU. If you aren't familiar the it boils down to shifters = dragons, squires ride those dragons to fight Grimm because the Grimm are massive, and shifters need aura concentrated blood to turn back to their human form. That's basically all you need for this story, but if you are interested in more in-depth knowledge you can check out Xekstrin's Dragon AU tag on tumblr. Also, used m-azing's design of shifter Pyrrah. Speaking of, Pyrrah is a bit meaner/crabbier in this AU. This is a setup chapter. Next will be the action and other stuff. Enjoy._

* * *

Jaune grunted and groaned as silently as he possibly could, trying to remove his shield from the locker. Beacon's lockers were some sort of dimensional anomaly to him. Jaune was always able to slide the shield in without any problems; but as soon as he wanted it back, the locker shrunk in size by about five centimeters. It wasn't much, but it was enough of a change that Jaune always ended up having to struggle to get it out. It was an eternal battle for him.

And like always, he was losing.

The other squires were excitedly chatting about the upcoming battles. While it wasn't the first time they had been paired up with a shifter to practice against another group, this was the first time that their grade depended upon it. It wasn't a _pass/fail win/loss_ grading system, but instead resembled an effort based system. If the instructors believed that the squires and shifters worked together well, then a passing grade would be administered, with adjustments being made based on the skill of the pair during the fight.

The first few practice fights had also been more of a way to show who had what skills amongst incoming freshmen. Everyone watched everyone else's matches. Weiss Schnee, a pale, rude girl from an upper class family in Vale showed that her application of dust was far superior to the average student. Yang Xiao-Long, a friendly blonde from a lower class family, showed how rash she could be when she power-bombed another dragon into submission. Ruby Rose, the kid-sister of Yang, showed that, while she couldn't fly, she had more than enough skill in on the ground, thinking and out pacing her opponent there instead of in the sky.

And Jaune.

He showed his utter incompetence.

Jaune lost his individual fight with Cardin Winchester, a stocky squire-bred, in a matter of moments. Two seconds into the fight Jaune tripped over a rock on the field, dropped his sword, and gave himself a black eye when the edge his shield clipped his face. Just remembering it brought a warm sensation to his face. He could still hear the laughs and jeers of his classmates. None of the ones he had heard had been particularly mean spirited, nothing more than, "Great going Arc!" and, "Certainly showed the ground who's boss!" but Cardin's comment had stuck with him.

Cardin had knelt down to pretend like he was checking on Jaune's well-being, but used the time to whisper so that the instructor, who was moving closer, couldn't hear. "Why are you even here?" He then pulled Jaune up roughly and slapped his back, trying to show that they were friends. But they weren't. And Jaune knew that.

Five words. Five words that cut into Jaune's soul. It's true that Jaune got into Beacon. He hadn't faked any transcripts or paid off any officials or pulled any strings. He was at Beacon fair and square.

But that wasn't entirely true. After seeing what the other students could do, it became clear to Jaune that he did _not_ belong here. All of them, every last one, were better than Jaune. If it wasn't clear when he slipped off his saddle and lost the match for his shifter, it became very clear in the following weeks elsewhere. In classes, Jaune struggled under the immense workload. Grades hadn't started yet, the introduction month being his only saving grace; but several teachers had already pulled him to the side and spoken to him about his performance. In the gym, Jaune couldn't compete. He couldn't press more than sixty kilos. He couldn't run five kilometers in his armor without breaking a sweat. He couldn't punch somebody hard enough to send them to the infirmary, though he played the reverse role very well. And on the field, Jaune established his dominance as a failure by losing his second match in an equally embarrassing way.

It very quickly became known that Jaune was someone who didn't belong. That he wasn't as good as everyone else. Shifters didn't want to be paired with him, and groups loved being paired against him. It was a guaranteed win.

And it wasn't lost on Jaune. His first month at Beacon showed him that the only reason he was here, was because of his name. Arc. That name held a lot of weight in the knight community. Rouge Arc lead the counter-offensive when Grimm destroyed Vale two hundred years ago. Grivois Arc constructed the entirety of the southern frontier with only a group of two other hunters. And Jaune's father Vert Arc, at the age of eighteen defeated a fifteen meter long, nine meter tall nevermore, the largest of its kind ever recorded.

And Jaune Arc had nearly brained himself on the first day with his own shield.

He gave another hearty tug at the equiment still stuck in his locker. His name being the sole reason for his admittance to Beacon didn't dishearten Jaune though. If anything, it made him want to prove everyone wrong. The school. His classmates, Cardin in particular. Anybody who doubted him. He was sick of being the kid who was the laughing stock of the locker room. He was tired of being the kid who people openly mocked in the hallways. It would be tough, Jaune knew that, but he had to try. Partners would be formed soon and he wasn't going to be the reason they both flunked out. He wasn't going to be the only Arc in three-hundred years to not be a knight. He wouldn't do that to his family.

"Are you Jaune Arc?"

Jaune nearly jumped out of his skin and slammed his head into the top of the locker as he straightened up. Knowing none of the other knights would talk to him, Jaune figured that he had missed the announcement from the shifters to come in and find whoever they were paired with. He took a deep breath and spun around with a smile.

Standing behind him was another boy, about the same height with dark hair, pink eyes, and a pair of tan horns springing from the top of his head; marking him as a shifter. The boy had a green and black tail-coat on with a pair of white pants underneath. The newcomer's face betrayed no emotion other than that of exhaustion. It looked like he hadn't slept well in months as evidenced by the large bags taking up residence under his eyes.

Jaune thought back to the piece of paper he had received when Professor Goodwitch assigned pairs for the day. The boy in front of him didn't look like a "Nora Valkyrie" who made the _o_ a heart, both _a_'s hearts, and had dotted their _i _with a heart in pink ink. In fact, Jaune hazarded that the guy in front of him probably detested the sort of bubbly personality that would write such a thing. But Jaune wasn't going to judge. He had no right to assume that the pink ink and bubbly handwriting hadn't come from the boy in front of him. Besides, he didn't want to insult his partner before the match.

Jaune stuck out his hand in a greeting. "Hey Nora! Yeah, I'm Jaune. Nice to meet you."

Nora looked at his hand and took it up in his own. "Lie Ren."

Jaune's eyes widened and his face reddened as he finished the handshake. He was such an idiot. "O-of course. What do ya' need Ren?"

Ren looked the squire up and down. He was tall, but that was about all the blonde had going for him. While Ren didn't have much to brag about, he could tell that Jaune's noodle arms were just that and nothing more. What armor that Jaune had managed to strap on only covered his chest, shoulders and thighs along with being incorrectly fit and loose in several places. Ren looked critically at the two belts necessary to hold up Jaune's pants and sighed. This kid was just as much of a mess as he had heard from the various rumors floating around his name. He was _really_ bailing Nora out on this one.

"You were paired with Nora Valkyrie right?"

"Uh-" Jaune pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket to verify, as if he hadn't already memorized the name. "Yeah." He looked up at Ren. "Why?"

"Would you be willing to switch with me? Nora and I are unofficial Partners and we don't like being separated." Ren's voice didn't waver but he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck while a slight pink color crept into his cheeks.

Jaune looked down at the slip of paper again. Nora was a great shifter. Jaune saw her in action once and it was something else. Her flying was a bit frantic and chaotic, but there was no doubt that she was one of the strongest shifters in this year's class. Giving up her slip would be dangerous. With her, he was almost guaranteed a win, and that would move him up in the eyes of his classmates. Then he could show them all what he could really do. Jaune nodded to himself in determination. He couldn't give up Nora. He had to start looking out for numero uno. Even if they were partners, helping Ren out would only lead to problems for Jaune. And he wasn't about to start creating contention for himself when he had so much already. He looked at Ren with his mind set on rejection.

"Sure, no problem man. Don't want to break up Partners." Jaune smiled and handed over the paper, internally screaming at his lack of backbone.

Ren nodded thanks and handed over his slip of paper, which had been folded neatly down the center. "See you around." And with that, Ren, the squire who stole all of Jaune's hopes and dreams, turned and disappeared into the crowd of still chatting students.

Jaune groaned out loud and slammed his forehead into the locker. He was such a wimp. Ren hadn't even bullied him and Jaune had given in instantly. And now, Jaune was stuck with a shifter who wouldn't be able to pick up for his slack and they would lose because of Jaune's incompetence. Just like last time. And just like the time before that. And just like every time Jaune was paired for a match.

Jaune unfolded the paper and looked at the name of the unfortunate soul who was being punished for unknown reasons.

Written in sharp black scrawl was the name: _Pyrrah Nikos_.

Oh.

Or maybe not.

* * *

Almost everybody else had already left the armory with their temporary partner. But Jaune was still at his locker, tugging away at his shield. Pyrrah had yet to show up, and Jaune was grateful for that. It meant that she wouldn't have to see this embarrassing display of weakness. He had to be tough if he wanted to end up permanent partners with Pyrrah. And that was one of the few things that could save him from the shameful jaws of flunking out of Beacon.

With a final heave, Jaune managed to pull his shield from the Arthurian locker. With no resistance though, Jaune stumbled and tripped backwards, fully expecting to receive _another_ head injury. However, instead of immediately hitting the ground, his shoulders connected with the shins of someone else and a surprised gasp came from above him. _Then_ his head slapped back against the stone and his vision went fuzzy.

"Watch it!" Jaune heard someone yell. While he couldn't see who he had almost knocked over, Jaune waved an apology and gave a sheepish smile anyway. He heard a sigh of annoyance before a hand came into focus, reaching for him to grab onto. Trying not to act excited at the prospect of someone not avoiding contact with him, Jaune grabbed the hand and used the leverage to pull himself up. Whoever the hand belonged to was like a rock; unmoving and a pillar of steady rigidity.

"Than-" Jaune's vision swam with black again. His head throbbed with pain and he almost collapsed before he felt support and heard another annoyed sigh. With a gentle push, his pillar propped him onto the locker for support, instead of taking the burden themselves.

"I assume you're Jaune Arc?" The voice was feminine and hard, but not mean. More exasperated than anything. Like someone who had just come home from work to find the dishes not done, despite being promised they would be.

Jaune felt his face warm with the fact that he could so easily be recognized by such a clumsy series of events. He blinked several times and his vision began to clear. "The one and only." He raised his head, eyes still closed. "Who's asking?" He tried to put on a charming smile and opened his eyes, meeting the piercing green of his savior.

And then he saw the rest of her.

Jaune liked to think that he could be relatively smooth with the ladies.

But instantly knew that _this _one was different.

Everything about this girl screamed _hot_ to Jaune. She was just shorter than Jaune by about centimeter or two and had olive skin that she had no problem showing off. All that this mysterious girl had in terms of clothing was a dark-red, midriff bearing, tube top and a gold topped skirt with two long slits on either side, that revealed one of two exceptionally well-toned legs. More of her body was probably covered in jewelry than it was in actual cloth. Around her neck was a golden choker embedded with several precious stones; and around her wrists and shoulders were matching pieces of what Jaune assumed to be steel armor that had been painted gold. On her hands were several expensive looking rings and Jaune couldn't help but notice the fact that her nails were sharpened to points.

As quickly as he could, Jaune raised his eyes back up to the girl's. But he noticed a few things that didn't seem in place in the process. Here and there, splotched across her skin were patches of red scales. Instead of the normal white, her eyes were yellow and the pupils were vertical. Just as she opened her mouth, a small, almost invisible puff of smoke came out.

"My name is Pyrrah. You're my partner for the match today." While she was stating the fact, she didn't seem particularly pleased about it. Her eyes narrowed as if she was sizing up prey before she continued, "If you're done staring we can tell Goodwitch that we're ready."

Jaune's face flushed red. "S-sorry I… uh…" Jaune rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He hadn't meant to be offensive; he had just been caught off guard by how attractive she was and how draconian her form was. Weren't shifters supposed to be able to fully transform with a little blood? Why did she still have so many dragon characteristics then? Could shifters control that kind of stuff? Did she do it on purpose? Jaune decided not to bring it up for fear of insulting his companion. Besides, dragon certainly didn't look _bad_ on her.

"I'll just grab my sword and we can uh… yeah." Jaune let out a nervous laugh before turning around and reaching into his locker for the sword. Praying that his sword wouldn't emulate his shield in being half impossible to remove from the locker, he tugged at it. Sure enough, it caught on the edges of the locker. Jaune looked over his shoulder and tried to give his best smile. "Just one second." Trying to be as casual as possible, Jaune slowly attempted to add more power to his pull and not raise suspicion.

However, Pyrrah was not deceived and Jaune was confident he saw black smoke leave her nostrils as she huffed. "Move over." Pyrrah placed one hand on Jaune's chest plate and pushed him out of the way. With her other hand she grabbed the sword and pulled. With a heavy, metallic, groan; the locker edges bent outwards and the sword came free. Jaune couldn't help but notice the incredible muscles Pyrrah's arm had as he almost fumbled the sword she threw towards him.

Jaune looked at the locker door and attempted to shut it. In whined noisily, but didn't shut at all. Instead, it simply stood propped open against the bent edges. He looked at Pyrrah and attempted to smile again. "With what they're charging us, one locker door won't be a big deal, right?" Pyrrah rolled her eyes and began to move away from him and head towards the exit of the armory. Jaune hurried after her once his sword and sheath were strapped to one his belt and his shield was safely on his back. He caught up quickly and held the door open for his companion. She eyed him, but didn't say anything.

"So… Who do you think we'll be up against today?" Jaune questioned. He wanted to make friends with Pyrrah if he could. She was _easily_ the strongest shifter admitted to beacon this year. Rumor had it she was one of the strongest shifters _ever_. Jaune had never seen her in a fight before, but after every one of her matches, individual or otherwise, people were always talking about it and how badly she thrashed the competition. And then she would disappear for the two or three day rest allowed after matches, only to reappear in the gym showing everybody up, or in class acing a test. She was a crabby mystery that every knight wanted to end up partners with, but nobody had earned that title yet. At least, not that Jaune had heard.

Pyrrah looked at him over her shoulder, her hair framing her back. "Doesn't really matter."

Jaune gave a quizzical look. "Why's that?"

"Because you'll lose your individual, and I'll win the other two sets." Each match was broken into three aspects. Knight against knight, shifter against shifter, pair against pair. The individual sets were worth a point each and the pair set was worth two points. So if both individuals lost, there was still a chance of at least tying the match. It was a system that Professor Ozpin had invented to promote teamwork over individualism.

However, with the way Pyrrah was talking, it didn't seem like it was working. Granted her reputation spoke about her individual prowess and Jaune's spoke of his individual failure, but that was still no way to talk to a teammate.

"Well, my mother always says not to count your eggs before they hatch." Jaune grimaced. Pyrrah didn't bother to refute him, but turned her head back forward.

"We'll see."

The two walked in silence for the last hallway of their adventure. Jaune didn't know why Ms. Goodwitch hadn't set up closer to the armory, but didn't bother to question it as Pyrrah and he entered her classroom and found her sitting at her desk.

Professor Goodwitch looked up from some of the papers she was grading and pushed her glasses back up her nose. "Mr. Arc, I thought you were paired with Ms. Valkyrie? And you Ms. Nikos, I thought you were paired with Mr. Lie Ren." Somehow, she had remembered all of the original assignments.

Jaune's mind raced trying to find an excuse for why he was with Pyrrah. Were they allowed to switch? Could they do that? He didn't know why they wouldn't be able to, but Professor Goodwitch had some very strange rules. "Oh! Us? We were just um…"

"Jaune and Ren and Nora and I switched partners." Pyrrah cut in.

Professor Goodwitch raised her eyebrows. "I see." She grabbed a pile of index cards that were stacked in the corner of her desk and flipped through. After a minute or so of searching, Goodwitch pulled two cards from the pile and placed them on the desk, quickly writing something down on a separate piece of paper. She looked up at the pair in front of her with a mysterious glint in her eyes. "I think it is fair that you see what you missed out on then, yes?"

Jaune, confused as to what that meant, merely shrugged. Pyrrah grimaced in response but didn't say anything aloud.

Goodwitch nodded. "Alright then. You will face Lie Ren and Nora Valkyrie at three o'clock. Please do not be late." Goodwitch lowered her head and appeared to dismiss the two.

Jaune thought for a second. He hadn't heard anything about Ren and Nora flying together before, but they were "unofficial" Partners, so they had to be good. Jaune didn't know if it was a fact or not, but people often said that a knight and shifter who were Partners were able to communicate telepathically. Not to mention the fact that Ren and Nora must have flown together in the past many to be that comfortable with each other. They would know each other's moves inside and out, regardless of whether or not they could mentally speak to each other.

They were going to be tough.

Before they exited the room, Jaune sneaked a peek at the clock. It was noon. Three hours to bond with Pyrrah before the match.

"Hey, we-uh, could talk strategy and watch a few matches while we wait." Jaune suggested.

But Pyrrah was already walking away, in the opposite direction of the field. "No thanks."

Jaune, bit the inside of his lip and turned his head down. "Alright." Jaune whispered to himself. He looked after his partner walking away from him, almost wanting to call out, but didn't. Instead, he let out a sigh before turning his back to her and started walking on the path that would lead him to the field. Maybe he could think up a strategy on his own.

After all, that was the one class he could always count on doing well in.

* * *

_A/N: Weak ending. I'll try to write the next chapter tonight and post it sometime during the week or tomorrow depending on my self control. This will be a two-shot so following actually makes sense for this story. Drop a favorite, follow, review, whatever if you enjoyed. I love feedback of any sort. Thanks for reading._


	2. Autumn Knights

_A/N: Welp. I lied. This is probably going to be four chapters instead of two. Whoops. Also, this AU technically set in the late industrial period, so we don't have crazy weapons. That's why Ren has those weapons instead of his Cannon ones. Enjoy._

* * *

Jaune heard the door open and turned expectantly towards it, hoping to see the better half of his team entering the prep room. Pyrrah still hadn't shown up, and with the clock reading _2:58 p.m,_ Jaune was beginning to think that she wasn't _going _to show up.

Jaune arrived about twenty minutes ago, not wanting to get lost at the last minute and looking like a fool, and ended up extremely early. So, to pass the time, he had been engineering social interactions in his mind for when Pyrrah did show up, so that they could come closer and, hopefully, end up as Partners. But the minutes had ticked by and Pyrrah simply hadn't shown up, leaving an increasingly nervous Jaune alone in the prep room, pacing back and forth. Pyrrah wouldn't forfeit the match so that she wouldn't have to work with Jaune, would she? Jaune knew he was bad, but he bad enough to earn a failing grade for? Pyrrah could probably afford one or two zeroes before her grade plummeted, but not Jaune. He needed this today.

So, when Jaune saw Ren and a short red haired girl who he presumed to be Nora entering the room instead of Pyrrah, he let out a heavy sigh and returned to pacing, offering only a small nod of recognition to the pair.

Nora let out an excited noise and moved from her position hanging off of Ren to hug Jaune. "Hi!"

Jaune felt his ribs cracking and he let out a gasp of air. "Hey there. Could you uh-"

"Nora, you're killing him." Ren spoke up. Nora let go of Jaune and made her way back to her Partner's side.

She let out a giggle before continuing, showing off a pair of large canines in the process. "Sorry, I just wanted to thank who switched with you!" Jaune rubbed his sides, checking for bruises. Nora was certainly excitable, although, Jaune should have been able to guess that from her high contrast outfit of a black jacket, white shirt, and pink skirt. Her blue eyes also seemed to sing with energy and happiness, matching her brilliant smile. It was hard for Jaune to look at her and not smile himself, she just radiated joy.

"It's _sooo_ weird that us four are fighting today. Like, what are the chances that the people we switch with would be the ones we end up fighting? It's almost like a movie or something." Nora zipped to Ren's other side and stretched out both arms like she was framing a title. Her voice took on that of a movie announcer. "Two pairs of knights and shifters, forced to bloody combat after an act of friendship once pulled them together. The only pair to survive will have to _kill_ the other." Nora smiled and looked to approval from Ren.

Jaune swallowed. Hard.

Ren noticed the anxiety that Jaune was giving off but didn't mention it aloud. "I think you're exaggerating again, Nora. Besides, we might not even have to fight." Nora let out a noise somewhere between annoyance, whining, and resentment upon noticing Pyrrah was missing, but didn't pick up her train of thought again.

Jaune looked at the clock. Now it read _3:04 p.m._ Ren was right. Professor Goodwitch was not known for her tolerance of tardiness. If she showed up before Pyrrah did, Jaune would have to forfeit the match. Where was she?

Jaune heard the door to the prep room open again, and his eyes shot towards it hopefully. Professor Goodwitch was holding the door open, surveying the contents of the room with critical eyes.

A pit formed in Jaune's stomach. Pyrrah wasn't here. She had run out on him. Dealing with him hadn't been worth the effort. She would rather take a zero than deal with the most incompetent squire in this year's class. Jaune let out a heavy sigh and moved to collect his sword and shield from where he had placed them. It was time to go home.

"Ah, there he is Ms. Nikos." Jaune's heart jumped as Goodwitch moved to the other side of the door to allow Pyrrah to step in.

And there she was. In all of her glory. All of her draconian glory. The pit in Jaune's chest didn't dissolve completely, because now he had to go against Ren and Nora, but the majority disappeared. He wanted to run over and hug Pyrrah and tell her how thankful he was that she showed up. He wanted to jump for joy and dace with how happy he was that Pyrrah showed up. He wanted to tell Professor Goodwitch that he was going to make it; that everything was going to be alright.

But instead he restricted himself a few wild punches into the air and a slight dance of happiness.

Goodwitch eyed the student, running through the signs of a seizure before deciding that Arc was simply trying to get a bug out of his shirt or something similar. She turned to Pyrrah, "We will discuss your request later."

Pyrrah's eyes flared with anger. "Professor I need-"

"Later." Goodwitch's voice was hard and firm. It was the end of whatever conversation they were having before entering the prep room. Pyrrah's fiery eyes didn't subside and she let out a plume of black smoke with a huff, but she moved and took up place next to Jaune. While he didn't want to get caught checking her out again, Jaune couldn't help but notice several half-ellipse portions of skin missing, leaving behind angry polka-dots on his partner. Looking closer, Jaune also noticed that several of the patches of scales he saw earlier on Pyrrah were either gone, or shrunk. He moved to ask his companion about it, but was interrupted.

"Now then," Goodwitch looked from Ren to Jaune and back again. "As you are well aware, the individual match between the squires takes place first. Please, grab your weapons and follow me." She moved so that she was standing outside of the room, but still holding the door open.

Ren, who had added a few pieces of leather to his attire as armor, reached behind his head and grabbed at two sword hilts that Jaune hadn't noticed previously, checking to make sure they were there. Now confident in his attire, he moved to the door, but not before getting a hearty hug and "Good luck Ren!" from Nora. Jaune noticed a smile as Ren peeled Nora off and nodded thanks.

Jaune grabbed his sword and clipped it to one of his belts without any issues. However, his shield, which he preferred to carry on his back, was a different story. Jaune struggled with the thing nervously for a minute, acutely aware of all the eyes on him. The stupid thing wouldn't attach to the hooks on the back of his chest plate. Jaune felt heat rising to his face. The match hadn't even started and he was making a fool of himself.

Then he heard an annoyed sigh and his arms were pushed out of the way and his back forcibly straightened. With several loud _snaps!_ the shield became steady. Jaune turned around and looked at Pyrrah. "Thanks."

She crossed her arms but didn't look him in the eye. "Don't mention it." Jaune noticed several of the angry polka-dots on the back of her left arm where it wasn't covered by jewelry.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jaune motioned towards the dots. "If you aren't feeling well or something, then it's alright. You don't have to fight for me. I'll scrape by someho-"

"I'm fine." Pyrrah snapped back at him. A trail of smoke came out of her nostrils.

But Jaune wasn't convinced. Maybe she had chicken-pox? "Seriously, it's alright if you head to the infirmary or something. I-"

"Mr. Arc." Goodwitch tapped her foot impatiently at the door.

Jaune nodded at her and moved to exit the room, but gave one last look back at Pyrrah.

But she wasn't looking at him.

She was staring at the dots.

* * *

Jaune felt the cool autumn air bite against his cheeks as he stepped out onto the field and into the center of the amphitheater. It was a nice day though. The sun was out. There was a gentle breeze coming from the east. Some birds even flew overhead.

Unfortunately, the nice weather also meant that more students would show up to watch the match.

And that it did. From what Jaune could see, almost his entire class was sitting in the stands waiting anxiously for the match to start. Jaune could only figure that between wanting to see Pyrrah in action, Jaune failing in action, and this being the last match of the day; the majority of students decided to attend. There wasn't much noise coming from the crowd, but Jaune could guess what they were talking about. Most likely bets were exchanging hands on how Jaune was going to screw up this individual match. Or on how Jaune could lose the match. Or if Jaune was going to hurt himself more than his opponent.

He tried to shrug it off, but as he was being led to the center of the amphitheater, Jaune's nerves bit at him. There was nothing that he could do other than his best, and if his best was giving himself a black eye, then he would have the blackest eyes of anybody on campus.

Goodwitch stopped in the center of the arena and Jaune and Ren took up their places, marked with white stones in the grey gravel. She raised her hands for silence and the buzz of the crowd died down. "This match is between Jaune Arc," a few boo's escaped the stands but nothing else; "And Lie Ren." Silence followed his name for a second before a bright and cheery voice screamed praise from the sidelines. Jaune looked over and saw both Nora and Pyrrah standing just outside of the amphitheater. Apparently, they had decided that the prep room wasn't good enough.

Jaune swallowed nervously. Pyrrah was watching. His _A_ grade and saving grace was going to watch him fight. Uh-oh.

Goodwitch looked annoyed at the interruption, but continued anyway, "Please draw your weapons, squires." Jaune unclipped his shield from his back and strapped it to his left arm before pulling his sword from its sheath with his right. Proper knight's weapons. Ren, on the other hand, reached behind his back and pulled two long, thin blades from the scabbards there. In each hand he held three-fourths of a meter of steel. Too short to be swords, but too long to be knives.

"Fighters, ready!" Jaune felt his mouth go dry as he took as solid of a stance as he could. Ren dropped low, raising one blade and lowering the other, eyes set on Jaune.

"Begin!"

Goodwitch jumped back, fully expecting for the two to run at each other full force. But they didn't. Instead, both of them slowly began circling. Ren knew that a fight wasn't won through haste; and Jaune knew from experience that when he ran, bad things happened. So they circled, sizing each other up, hoping for the other to make a sloppy first move.

Jaune moved so that he was facing the crowd and his eyes flicked up to them and then to Pyrrah quickly. He wasn't about to screw it up again. Not now.

But that flick of the eyes was all Ren needed. He burst forward bringing one blade horizontally across the tip of Jaune's shield to push it away, and the other diagonally towards the shoulder plate of his opponent. Nothing that would end the match, but it would certainly hurt.

Jaune barley managed to bring up his sword in time to deflect the second blade down to the gravel. Ren was fast. Really fast. Jaune brought up his shield to block a double blade strike that had followed the initial assault. They clattered loudly against the metal and Jaune felt the energy roll up his shoulder. And he could hit. Hard. Jaune slashed at Ren to try and create some space between the two. Ren jumped back, just a hair out of reach.

Jaune tried to think with the second he had just earned. Ren didn't seem to have any problems using both blades at the same time. He used them almost simultaneously while still being aware of Jaune's weapon. So he was very aware of his environment. He was able to dodge Jaune's swing instead of blocking like most would have. That and the light armor he was wearing meant that he didn't want to, or didn't expect to be hit. His fortitude too low to be take substantial damage.

But Jaune's time was up, he had to do something or risk another attack from Ren. And defenses don't win battles. Jaune charged forward and brought his sword down in a heavy overhead strike. But Ren saw the attack as if it had been telegraphed.

Ren danced out of the way so that he was facing Jaune's almost completely exposed back. But instead of slicing him in half, like any other opponent would, Ren's blades slashed down an inch from his clothes, slicing the leather straps holding Jaune's chest and back plates to his body.

Jaune slid his foot across the gravel and attempted spin so he could raise his shield to block any more attacks. But with the way his weight was distributed, he only succeeded in falling onto his back with a loud clatter.

A roar of laughter went up from the crowd and Jaune's face burned red. He could hear them shouting for Ren to finish the match, but the boy with the thin blades didn't oblige. Instead, he motioned for Jaune to stand up with his weapons and took stance a meter and a half away. Jaune, confused as to why Ren would do such a thing, did as he was told and pushed himself up into a standing position. He heard a loud clatter of metal on stone, and realized what Ren had done. The largest pieces of his armor lay resting in the gravel.

Ren motioned for Jaune to kick them away, but didn't say anything. Not wanting to fight without any protection, Jaune hesitated to obey.

"It was slowing you down and restricting your movements." Ren's voice came at him from across the gravel. Jaune gave a puzzled look. Ren's voice didn't betray annoyance, but was spiced with something else instead. Pity? Sympathy? "It's not much of a fair fight if you can't move, is it?"

Jaune looked down at the armor. Ren was right. Jaune had always known that his grandfather's armor didn't fit properly. But it was all he had. It was as much of an honor to wear that armor as it was to swing his father's sword, or use his grandma's shield.

But Ren wasn't going to wait any longer for Jaune. So he moved, kicked Jaune in his, now unprotected, chest and tossed both pieces of armor away with the tips of his blades.

"You'll have to keep a tighter guard now, though."

Jaune rushed at Ren again, with another overhead strike. Again, Ren dodged it and ended up behind Jaune. But this time, Jaune was able to bend backwards and slam his shield into Ren's blades as they came in for a strike. The force of Jaune's block sent Ren's weapons backwards and caused their owner to stumble a bit, which Jaune attempted to take advantage of. He swung his sword in a wide, horizontal arc towards Ren.

It looked as if it was about to hit, before Ren ducked and rolled underneath the sword, ending up on Jaune's right side. Ren brought both of his blades in an overhead strike of his own, aimed for Jaune's shoulder.

Without having time to think, Jaune dropped his sword and raised his arm so that Ren's blades connected with the vambrace covering his arm. The blades connected, pushing Jaune's arm down, but slid off the metal after contact. However, before Jaune could escape danger, both blades caught on the lip of his shoulder armor. The energy of the strike bent Jaune backwards awkwardly and forced his shield arm in front of him.

Ren, seeing his opportunity, abandoned his weapons and kicked the shield out of the way. He slammed an open palm into Jaune's chest.

Jaune felt a hard push and flew back three meters, landing heavily. Ren had used his aura to amplify the strike tenfold. It wouldn't have surprised Jaune if Ren was holding back too. With that kind of aura manipulation ability, what Jaune had felt could have only been an ear's full of aura.

Before he could get up and resume the fight, Jaune felt the tip of a blade at his throat. Ren was standing over him, and was holding Jaune's own sword against his neck. "Yield." Ren's voice was as stoic as ever. Almost like he didn't care whether or not Jaune gave in.

Jaune thought of his other option for a moment. He could try and squirm a way out, but with him on the ground, and how fast Ren was, he doubted he would be able to. Jaune nodded. "I yield."

A cheer went up from the crowd. They hadn't expected the match to last as long as three minutes, but it had ended with the result they all showed up for. Money quickly exchanged hands as the outliers who guessed that the match would be so long raked in profits.

Ren offered a hand to help Jaune up, which the loser accepted without bitterness. Jaune brushed a few clouds of dust off of his clothes and looked at Ren. "Good match." He tried. It was excellent by what Jaune had experienced in his previous bouts. Every other match for him had been nothing more than creative failures. At least this time he had almost managed to land a successful hit or two.

Ren didn't say anything but tossed Jaune's sword up and caught it so that he was holding the blade and the pommel was facing out to Jaune. While he was worried for his opponent's health for a second, Jaune noticed the pink glow emanating from Ren's hand, protecting it. Jaune grabbed the pommel and nodded thanks, but couldn't take it from Ren's grip.

Jaune made eye contact with Ren. Something was behind those pink eyes. Jaune didn't know what, but something most certainly was. "Don't be a knight if you can't be a knight." Ren said. Jaune felt his heart drop. Even this new acquaintance of his thought he was a failure. His head dropped and he tried to pull the sword away again. But it still didn't move. He tugged once more, but Ren didn't let go.

Jaune looked up at Ren's face again. "Hey, can I just-"

"But if you can be a rider, be a rider." Ren let go of Jaune's sword and his hand stopped glowing. "There's a difference between a knight and a rider." Ren motioned towards the armor on the other side of the theater and Jaune's shield. "Fighting honorably and chivalrously isn't going to work much longer, and doesn't fit you well given that last move you pulled, blocking me like that."

Jaune looked at Ren. "If I can't be a knight, don't be a knight." Ren wasn't saying that Jaune should drop out. He was telling Jaune that he needed to stop being something he wasn't. He might not be a strong, traditional knight; but he might be a fantastic backstabbing knight and simply didn't know it. It wasn't much of a consultation, but Jaune didn't think Ren was somebody who ever really gave true praise or non-cryptic advice.

Goodwitch stepped into the ring, deciding to put an end to the moment being shared between the two. "Lie Ren is the winner of this match. For the next match we will move to the field."

While the crowd moved with Professor Goodwitch to the much larger field stadium, Jaune fell behind. He wasn't involved in the next match and he didn't think Pyrrah would care if he watched or not. Picking up his granpa's armor was more important anyway. He kept his head to the ground, a bit disappointed that even when it had mattered most, he still blew it. Jaune let out a heavy sigh and grabbed the chest plate, tucking it under his right arm. Before he could grab the back piece though, it came flying towards him. He barely managed to catch it and nearly fumbled it three times before getting a solid hold.

Jaune looked up to see who had thrown it, fully expecting to see Ren. But Ren, with Nora excitedly buzzing around him, went with the crowd to the field stadium. Pyrrah had been the one who threw the armor. She was standing a few meters away with her arms crossed.

Jaune gave the fakest smile he could. "Looks like you were right. Now it's just up to you to win your individual and the pair fights for us."

Pyrrah snorted and began to walk away as Jaune caught up. "Well, you weren't half-bad." Her voice was warmer than it had been when they first met. Only by a few degrees, but definitely warmer.

"But I wasn't half-good either."

Pyrrah looked over her shoulder at him as she walked forward, rounded pupils taking him in. Hadn't they been vertical before? "No, you weren't." Jaune laughed and earned a slight smile from his companion. "But mediocre isn't always that bad. Sometimes, it's better to be average."

Jaune thought on this for a moment and was about to respond when Pyrrah turned her head forward again.

What a weird thing to say.

* * *

_A/N: Some of the most obvious accidental symbolism in the world in this chapter. I don't know what the update schedule will be like. I'll try for once during the week and to finish for next weekend, but no promises. Good to see Pyrrah warming up though. Wonder why she would do that? Drop a follow, favorite, review whatever if you enjoyed. Thanks for reading._


End file.
